


Just Let Me In

by claraoswelve



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M, Fluff, dark water, emotional h/c, slight AU, tag scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 13:19:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4668032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claraoswelve/pseuds/claraoswelve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous Tumblr Prompt: would you write an au where twelve ends up comforting clara before she resorts to threatening the tardis?</p><p>Tag Scene to Dark Water. Slight AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Let Me In

The footsteps were the first sign. Shuffling, squeaking with uncertain determination as they carried their owner to specific locations. Coat rack, bookshelf, desk... the Doctor mentally ticked off a finger for each brief instance his sensitive ears caught the faint clicking of metal against chewed fingernails.

"Do you still have those sleep patch things?"

The corner of his mouth twitched up at the sound of her voice. She was trying so,  _so_ hard to keep her tone light. Keep it normal. But of course he detected it's edge. "You can't have one." He pretended to busy himself with buttons and levers but his eyes were focused on nothing more than his own hands. Even with his back turned he could map out every turn, every step she took.

"I'm having trouble sleeping."

Oh, I'm sure you are. "You still can't have one."

The sound of wood sliding in and out as she plucked the box and slipped it into her pocket. "Can I have one?"

"No, you can't have one."

"So!" He looked up from his task and leaned heavily on the console, watching the movement behind him reflected in the monitor above. "Volcano. What's so great about lava-" And there it was. He didn't flinch, didn't immediately move because of course he knew it was coming. Her warm palm thudded against his neck and the patch stuck. His brow rose almost to his hairline. Surely she could have come up with something better than that? The Doctor's hand covered hers and removed it - along with the useless patch from his neck.

Clara hardly reacted as he flicked the strip of plastic away but kept a tight hold on her hand. On a different day she might feel intimidated by the blue eyes that stared right into her heart, but not today. Because the gaze that reflected hers wasn't in the least way intimidating.

It was understanding.

Sympathetic.

"Clara, what are you doing?"

Hurt.

It took a couple of tugs but she managed to rip her hand free from his hold, though her feet didn't move. Should she walk away? Demand that he took her home so she could cry in peace?

She couldn't break down. Not here. Not in front of him. So Clara straightened, lips parted but she just couldn't find a string of words to fit the moment.

"Did you really think that was going to work on me?" His hand touched her shoulder and refused to allow her to shrug it away. She could feel the coolness of his palm through her sleeve as it slid down her arm and into her jacket pocket. Clara didn't fight him, merely shut her eyes out of some strain of humiliation as he withdrew the seven TARDIS keys she'd stolen. "What's happened?"

When she spoke up she instantly regretted it. Any desire to strengthen her voice was hopeless. "What makes you think something happened?"

_Well look at your eyes, for one!_

_Only an idiot wouldn't notice. I'm no idiot._

_Because I'm clever._

Any of those responses would have been expected. Any of those responses would be preferred over the one he actually offered.

A pleading, sad, simple, " _Clara._ "

Her bottom lip was starting to tremble and she hid her face by staring at the floor, hands in her pockets.

"Is it your gran?" His brow deepened. When he earned no response it heightened. "Your dad-"

"-No." She shook her head. Sniffled. Shut her eyes and only the Doctor's hearing could detect the unmistakable noise of a tear hitting the metal floor.

He took a step closer and Clara looked up, entire body starting to tremble with anxiety. She couldn't talk. It hurt."

"Danny." He decided then. Clara still couldn't respond with anything more than a quiet sob, which was the only answer he needed. The Doctor had his rules. But even the strongest habits could easily be broken when it was necessary.

His best friend was crying.

It was necessary.

But first, she needed to let him in.

"How?" He didn't have to force softness into his voice because it came naturally. He wasn't pretending to care.

"Hit..." Her voice cracked and her eyelids slammed shut. "Got hit by a car."

That was the last thing he'd expected. The silly soldier couldn't even die properly.

Clara was briefly jolted out of her state when she felt hands on her arms, gently but insistingly guiding her backwards. "What are you-"

"-Sit down. You look about ready to keel over."

She laughed weakly because it wouldn't surprise her. She felt dehydrated from days of endless crying and had almost completely lost the will to do something as simple as stay on her feet. Clara allowed herself to be led to the staircase where she sat back heavily atop the third step. Her head dropped down to hang between her knees that were against her chest, arms curled tightly around them. She squeezed and squeezed as if the pressure would allow her tears to subside. They didn't.

"Clara."

She couldn't hear him. She couldn't hear anything; her own tireless sobs blocking the whole world out. She just wanted to curl up and sleep. She wanted to wake up and be reassured this was all just a bad dream.

Clara had never been that lucky.

The longer she cried the longer she was forced to remind herself  _why_  she was crying. She thought back to the tiniest details of the man she loved and it just hurt worse. His smile. His voice. His hands... all those gentle caresses and soothing hands in her hair were one of the things that hurt the most to live without.

So she sought it out. It was almost unintentional and hoped she could pass it as mere exhaustion as Clara began to slip sideways into the Doctor's arms.

The walls were down.

And Clara was broken.

The Doctor was horrible with words. He couldn't verbally comfort her so he did it the way humans seemed to receive the best.

_He held her._

Clara tried. She really did try hard to pretend the hands that soothed her belonged to Danny. But the image of her deceased beloved faded from her mind and was replaced with reality. It was the Doctor.

It wasn't Danny. She wouldn't pretend it was Danny...

It was the Doctor.

And that was exactly what she needed.


End file.
